Poetry

Sometimes I tremble like a storm-swept flower,

And seek to hide my tortured soul from thee.

Bowing my head in deep humility

Before the silent thunder of thy power.

Sometimes I flee before thy blazing light,

As from the specter of pursuing death;

Intimidated lest thy mighty breath,

Windways, will sweep me into utter night.

For oh, I fear they will be swallowed up--

The loves which are to me of vital worth,

My passion and my pleasure in the earth--

And lost forever in thy magic cup!

I fear, I fear my truly human heart

Will perish on the altar-stone of art!

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